Maybe Though
by Paiger0803
Summary: I have one last one-shot theorizing what I think happened in the tent between Connor and Jude.


Jonnor

Jude Adams Foster and Connor Stevens

ABC Family-The Fosters

"Alright kiddos, lights out!" Lena exclaimed. Connor and I crawled into our tent, zipping the door shut. We waited fifteen agonizing minutes.

"Maddie and Chelsea want to come over to our tent," Connor said, staring at his phone.

"What?"

"They said there was 'unfinished business.' Is it alright if they come?" Connor raised an eyebrow at me.

"Sure." I shrugged. Connor texted a reply and we waited. Ten minutes passed easily before the girls arrived, Chelsea's phone in hand.

"Hi Jude. Hi Connor," Chelsea whispered. The light of her phone illuminated the dark tent, only allowing for ghosts of everyone's faces visible.

"We never finished our game," Maddi hissed. Chelsea unlocked her phone to reveal a virtual glass bottle. I immediately tensed up at the mention of the game. Connor glanced over at me, biting his lip.

"You up for another round?" Chelsea dared to raise her voice above a whisper. Connor released his worried lip from between his teeth and nodded. I rolled my shoulders to relax, trying to think cool. I nodded.

"Who's first?" she asked. Maddie raised her hand. She clicked the bottle and it spun. The accompanying music was turned off, but everyone in the enclosed space heard the circus music that seemed to float through the air. The bottle stopped at Connor. They leaned forward. Closer. Closer. Their lips brushed for less than a second, and Maddie pulled away. She wiped her lips on her shirt sleeve.

"Your turn, Connor." I shifted my weight as Connor pressed the bottle. It spun and spun and spun. I held my breath.

Please skip over me. Please skip over me. Not me. Not me. Not me.

The bottle stopped. Chelsea grinned victoriously. They both closed their eyes and there was that feeling in my gut, like it was on a never ending roller coaster and I had just finished the third loop. It made me sick. I swallowed the feeling, but it didn't go away. I adjusted my sitting position, resting my elbows on my knees just as Chelsea and Connor broke apart.

Chelsea spun the bottle. It spun only twice before landing on me. I blinked at the phone, willing it to change and say anything but me. Fate didn't like me I guess because the bottle didn't move.

Chelsea leaned forward. The polite thing was to meet her halfway. I felt the air get stale and hot as I moved closer. My eyes closed and nothing. I felt her lips but there was nothing. No emotion. We pulled away quietly. I opened my eyes.

"Spin, Jude." I pressed the green bottle.

Please don't be Connor. Please don't be Connor. The bottle spun round and round. It passed Connor once, twice, and it found Maddie, only one spot away from Connor. The world felt lighter. I leaned in and sweetly pressed my lips to Maddie's and pulled back.

Maddie checked her phone.

"We have to get back. Thanks though for finishing the game," she whispered. Her and Chelsea crawled out the tent door, leaving Connor to zip it shut again. I curled in the corner, pulling on my pajamas and slipping into my sleeping bag. Connor did the same.

The tent was dark, but I could see Connor's face. He had a thoughtful expression on his face.

"We never finished the game," he whispered quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"Jude, if I tell you something, will you swear not to tell?"

I nodded. The tension held thick in the air. I rested my head on my arm, leaning toward Connor to hear his words. None floated to my ear. I heard Connor rise. I sat up and followed his silhouette as he crawled closer.

"Please don't be mad at me," Connor whispered. His lips were inches from me. He leaned forward and then there wasn't any distance. Warmth washed over me. I kissed back.I guess that was the only pro of spin the bottle-you got to learn how to kiss.

Connor and I stayed like that for a minute, quietly kissing each other. We broke apart, shame spread across every inch of his face.

"Are you mad?" Connor asked quietly.

I shook my head.

"Good. But this, this doesn't mean anything-not just yet. Can you promise me you won't tell?"

I nodded. "I won't tell." Connor smiled. His hand wandered along my sleeping bag until it caught mine. He interlaced our fingers.

"This doesn't mean anything either-not just yet," he whispered. I nodded and closed my eyes. I heard Connor scooch closer, his sleeping bag scratched against the tent floor. I felt our arms become no longer taut because of the distance between us.

"Does this mean something now?" I hissed, suppressing a giggle.

Connor shook his. "No, not just yet-maybe though."


End file.
